


Sweetie Pie & The Infinite

by chibi_zoe



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: AU, F/M, Mecha, Sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi_zoe/pseuds/chibi_zoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharak first met Hassan when they trained together to be fighter pilots, their relationship has not been easy, especially with the military’s ban on fraternisation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetie Pie & The Infinite

“Don’t do that Sweetie Pie, you’ll get your pretty new dress dirty.” It was a familiar admonishment and Sharak did as she was told without complaint, but not without a last longing look at the children having fun playing cricket in the street outside the studio. Girls were supposed to be pretty and compliant. They weren’t supposed to want to run and scream and play outside where the sun would burn their delicate skin. Sharak didn’t feel like a girl, but her mirror told her otherwise every morning. It didn’t matter how much she prayed to be turned into a boy, it never happened.

“Smile for the camera Sweetie Pie.” Sharak pasted on a well-practiced smile, lowered her gaze coyly as she’d been taught to do, and tried to exude the modest excitement the assignment called for. In the background her mother was eyeing her critically, no doubt already rehearsing her next tirade in her head. Girls were supposed to enjoy getting dolled up and having their photo taken, it was supposed to be exciting. Sharak couldn’t think of any activity she enjoyed less than photo shoots. 

“I think we should go for full authenticity,” the man in the lab coat said imperiously as he stared at her with hungry eyes, “hook her up the way that the pilots are going to be hooked up. She doesn’t have any talent so it won’t matter.” Her mother objected strenuously, worried that the monitors would leave marks. The man in the lab coat sneered disdainfully at these objections and waved his men forwards. 

Sharak ignored the familiar irritation that flared in her chest at being talked over, she was just a girl and her opinions didn’t matter, not the way they would have if she’d been a boy. She passively allowed them to stick the monitors to her temples, neck and fingers. They were uncomfortable and felt oddly invasive, like little worms squirming through her veins. It was hard to relax when they told her to do so, but she forced herself to comply, resistance was rarely fruitful. 

She was currently reclined inside the cockpit of the latest model RBR-8045, which was surprisingly comfortable for a military robot, shooting a range of promotional images. The technology surrounding her was fascinating and she tried to concentrate on it despite the strange sensations running through her suddenly sensitive body. 

“Sir!” The man in the lab coat in front of her turned his head in query. His lips moved as he answered but Sharak didn’t hear what he said as her mind suddenly expanded.

She was no longer just Sharak, she was RBR-8045-Sharak.

She could feel the wires running along her metal limbs, she could feel the concrete floor of the hanger and taste the cold air. Screens in front of her human eyes sprang to life, showing her topographical maps, star charts, mechanical status and a whole lot of other things that didn’t mean anything to her. It was amazing. 

She sat up, uncaring of the ants that fell from her shoulders, and raised her hand to flex her fingers in front of her face. The massive metal joints were larger than her head but they moved so smoothly and with so much power. She was incredible! She was invincible! She was…

Back in her small, squishy, girly body. The man in the lab coat was shining a bright light in her eyes. “98%” He said in a marvelling tone of voice. “We’ve never had anyone hit 98% compatibility before.” Somewhere far away she could hear her mother demanding to know what was going on but Sharak ignored her to focus on the man right in front of her. “You are joining the program.” He said in a tone that brooked no arguments. Sharak nodded dumbly. Anything. She would do anything to feel like that again. 

** __ ** __ **

Hassan twitched at his uniform as he stood in a line with the other applicants, his palms sweaty and his throat feeling tight. His scores on the test machine had all been in the low 80’s, it was a surety that he would get into the program, any boy who scored over 65% consistently was pretty much guaranteed a position but it didn’t make the waiting any easier. His parents were smiling at him from the crowd as his name was called and he walked up to shake the Directors’ hand and receive his official ID card. 

He felt a silly grin stretch his mouth as he stared down at his new identification card. In the picture he was wearing his uniform and staring straight ahead, his expression stern and unyielding. It was how he’d always imagined himself as a military man. This card was a good way to start his new career, everyone who saw it would know what kind of man he was going to be. 

After the last boy had joined the small group on the stage there was a quiet but vehement commotion amongst the men behind the microphone. Hassan couldn’t make out just what the argument was about, but eventually the Director called out another name and the most gorgeous girl he’d had even seen slowly ascended the steps to the stage. His heart nearly stopped in his chest and a rumble of discontent arose from the audience. She was dressed entirely inappropriately for a military event but she was graceful and modest as she accepted her ID card and glided across the stage in her impossibly high heels to join the boys. He wondered what her ID photo looked like.

The final speeches were long and boring, an excuse for the high ranking scientists to spend some time in the limelight. Hassan used the time to check out the newcomer. She was effortlessly elegant in her aubergine designer evening gown, soft and beautiful, not at all like someone preparing to enter an elite military academy with the goal of piloting one of the worlds’ most advanced planetary defence robots. Hassan wondered what her story was, how she’d come to be here, and whether or not she’d stay.

She was quiet after the event, standing slightly off to one side of the group of boys and making no move to join them as they discussed amongst themselves why a girl had suddenly been chosen. Hassan listened to them spout off about a woman’s place being in the home and about the unsuitability of a girl in the military and frowned. It was all a load of rot as far as he was concerned, his mother wasn’t weak and neither were his sisters, but he also didn’t want to be ostracised and possibly dumped from the program for not being a team player so he resolutely kept his mouth shut.

** __ ** __ **

“You’re Sweetie Pie.” One of The Boys says bluntly to her as they wait behind the stage for their orders. Sharak smiles pleasantly in a conditioned response to that particular phrase, one that has been reinforced many times over throughout her life, but behind the smile her teeth grind together. Sweetie Pie is her modelling name, one coined by her mother when she was just an infant and she has always hated it.

“I am.” She says quietly, tilting her face downwards and staring at him through her lashes in another habitual gesture. She notes that he is constantly looking to the other boys for reassurance that what he is doing is right. It isn’t and suddenly she’s had enough of being looked down on simply for being female. She tilts her head back up determinedly and looks him straight in the eye. “Is that a problem?” 

“Why are you here?” The Boy is much less certain of himself now that she’s not backing down meekly like a good girl should. Sharak is exceedingly tired of being a good girl. She’s been tired of it for a long time but now, finally, she has another option and her mother isn’t here to censor her every word and action. Unless they force her out of the program her mother won’t ever be able to inhibit her again and she has no plans to leave the program, not if there’s even the slightest chance to feel like she did when she was hooked up to that robot. 

“Why are you?” She says to him calmly but firmly. He looks at her oddly, his chest puffing up in self-importance at his acceptance into the pilot program and then deflating slightly again when he remembers that all of the other boys in the hanger with them were accepted as well.

“We’re going to be pilots.” He asserts, gesturing around at the others who are watching their interaction interestedly, but silently. His chest is still quite puffed out with his own sense of entitlement.

“So am I.” She says simply, standing up straight but deliberately not imitating his posturing. 

“As if.” He sneers contemptuously. Sharak merely smiles again, she knows her compatibility scores were higher than any of the boys here, it’s the only reason that the Director consented to let her in. She will wipe the floor with them.

** __ ** __ **

Hassan is startled that The Girl is expected to share the same barracks with them. They don’t get their own rooms like he expected, just a bunk and a foot locker in a large shared space. She seems startled too, but doesn’t say anything, just kicks her high heels off and puts them away neatly. She only has a very small carry bag of personal possessions, by far the smallest bag of any of them, and it takes her mere moments to unpack. Hassan’s stuff fits neatly into his assigned locker but several of the other boys are having difficulties making everything fit.

The bathroom is a surprise too, and not a good one. It’s accessed through a door at the back of the barracks and it is essentially one relatively small room with a dividing wall between a bank of five toilets and a row of ten shower roses. No one is impressed, least of all The Girl. When she turns to face the wall and starts to peel off her dress with an aggravated sigh he quickly averts his eyes, but he notices that not everyone does. He hopes that no one tries anything immoral with her. He’s seen the aftermath of immoral behaviour before and it’s not something he ever wants to see again.

When the incredibly loud alarm goes off at 0500 hours, everyone leaps out of bed and starts getting changed into their training jumpsuit, The Girl included. He catches a glimpse of her naked breasts as she puts her bra on; it’s black, lacy, and perfectly matches her knickers. It would be a lot more exciting if she was doing anything other than just throwing her clothes on as quickly as possible, her hair tangled and her eyes still heavy with sleep. There are several cat calls from the other boys but The Girl doesn’t respond although Hassan can read the irritation in her posture.

The physical training is as just as tough as Hassan expected it to be, designed to push them hard and help them reach their full potential. The Girl doesn’t do very well, but then Hassan highly doubts that she’s endured anything like the athletic and strength training that he and the other boys did at school. He admires her persistence and drive to succeed. He also can’t help but appreciate how even dirty, sweaty, and clearly exhausted she’s stunningly beautiful, like a walking advertisement for a health and fitness program. 

After a healthy but somewhat bland lunch they go to lessons. Pilots need to be able to calculate trajectories, take gravitational effects into account and know the where the main population centres are located. The Girl is dismal at the academics but does surprisingly well in all of the practicals. Hassan presumes that she hasn’t had much formal education, with looks like hers he doubts anyone thought it worthwhile. He himself is at the top of their class. He looks at the determination on The Girl’s face as she attempts to solve a second order differential equation with nothing more than basic mathematics and comes to a decision.

** __ ** __ **

“Would you like me to tutor you?” One of The Boys says to her suddenly, looming over her workstation and blocking out the light. 

Sharak looks up at him curiously. He appears awkward and unsure of himself, shifting his not-insubstantial weight nervously from foot to foot. She is instantly suspicious of his motives even though he isn’t one of the ones who’ve been denigrating her, questioning her morality and postulating about what she must have done to get into the program.

“Why?” She asks him shortly, her tone verging on outright rudeness. The advanced mathematics is giving her a vicious headache and it still doesn’t make any more sense to her than it did an hour ago. If she couldn’t see the boys around her solving the very same problems with varying degrees of ease she would think that this was all just a callous prank. Evidently it was something that boys learned in school but which girls were kept ignorant of, rather like the body strengthening exercises that still left her muscles tired and aching.

“You’re obviously here for a reason and maths clearly isn’t it.” He says evenly and Sharak looks at him more closely, intrigued by his words. He sounds completely genuine and he’s the first one of The Boys to acknowledge that she has a right to be here, the senior brass’s opinions notwithstanding. His face is open and honest and she finds herself smiling slightly up at him. He beams back down at her in an unconscious reaction, his brown eyes sparkling. She remembers that his name is Hassan.

“Thank you Hassan.” She says as politely as she can and The Boy slumps down into a chair next to her all graceless elbows and knees. She’s seen him on the practice fields and knows that he can be very graceful when the situation calls for it, studying is obviously not the right place though. Her mother would be appalled. 

“Let’s start with something simple.” He begins almost immediately, opening his tablet on the table in front of them and pointing to an equation that has a familiar look to it. All of the equations on his screen look familiar in fact. 

She can’t help but notice that he smells nice as he leans forward to start explaining how the simple equations that she already knows link into the more difficult ones that currently make so little sense. It’s like a lightbulb coming on in her brain and she knocks her shoulder against his in wordless thanks. He knocks back companionably and they settle down to solve some serious mathematics.

** __ ** __ **

A year into their training and Hassan can see that Sharak is very obviously going to be the best pilot that he’s ever heard of in his life. She’s strong, she’s smart and her tactics are unrivalled. The fact that she’s still the most beautiful woman he’s ever met is irrelevant. Except for late at night in his dreams.

Many of their fellow trainees have expressed their abhorrence of Sharak’s increasingly muscular appearance, but Hassan finds her strength to be a massive turn on. The way her abdominals are so clearly defined makes his mouth water, he would give anything to be able to trace them with his tongue. If he ever tried it though, he’s sure that she’d rip his spine out, probably via his nostrils. The generally quiet and submissive girl she’d been at the start of the program is long gone and Hassan doesn’t miss her one little bit.

They spend a lot of time together, working out as well as doing their classwork. Hassan feels honoured to call her his best friend. He’d like to be even closer to her but such interactions are forbidden for military personnel. He wants to spend the rest of his life with her, keeping her safe, but going into battle with her isn’t going to be good for him as he just know that he’ll lose his focus on the enemy in his drive to keep her safe. 

"I'm giving up on being a pilot.” He tells her bluntly one morning as they wait their turn for their regular physical, they’re sitting close enough together on the unpadded bench that their bare knees knock together. She twists around to face him, her eyes wide in shock. If he does this it will mean that they won’t be able to spend so much time together anymore since ground crew classes and pilot classes aren’t held together. 

“There’s no way that you’re not going to be the pilot of The Infinite,” he says, staring her straight in the eye, “and I’d rather be in charge of your ground crew, making sure that everything’s top notch for you.” The Infinite is the name of the programs’ ultimate fighting machine, the thing that all of the trainees are competing to pilot. There are other fighting machines, but none of them as advanced and desirable as The Infinite. 

“Hassan...” She breathes. He can feel her fingers twitching against his forearm and his breath catches in his throat as her thumb strokes across his. He catches it between his fingers and squeezes lightly. It’s dangerous. It’s exhilarating. It’s the first step towards what he wants more than anything. It’s the first step on the path towards the one thing they cannot do. 

** __ ** __ **

Sharak-The-Infinite surveys her vast domain. The invading aliens are just entering the atmosphere, so she has plenty of time to prepare her defences. In her ear Hassan is relaying co-ordinates, direction, velocity and, occasionally, crude commentary. She loves the way he croons obscenities at her like they’re sweet nothings.

“Unit 8 has a photo of you taped to his console.” Hassan whispers to her softly. “So I jacked off in his cockpit and didn’t clean it up. I hope he enjoys this mission.”

"Units 1 through 7 back me up." She orders perfunctorily, trying to ignore his words. “Unit 8 you’re the bait.” She hopes that Hassan was only joking, otherwise their colleague is in for a very bad day. “Head out over the Pacific and wait for further instructions.” Unit 8 launches skywards and heads towards the ocean without a word. Sharak-The-Infinite tracks his progress silently for a few minutes before launching her own team skywards. This is going to be a vicious fight.

The aliens head for Unit 8 exactly as Sharak-The-Infinite predicted. They don’t notice her ambush beneath the waves and have to scramble when she rises beneath them with her plasma knife extended. She guts the first one easily, but the others dodge around her with surprising speed. Units 3 and 5 work together to take out the alien trying to get behind Sharak-The-Infinite and she thanks them automatically as their target falls lifelessly into the ocean. 

Extending her arm, she pivots in a move straight out of the latest Bollywood blockbuster, watched in secret with Hassan only last week, and grasps another alien with her hand. She squeezes until it explodes in a shower of green ichor and shattered carapace.

Unit 3 cheers at the same time that Hassan groans in her ear about the mess that he’s going to have to clean up. Exhilaration courses through Sharak-The-Infinite and she pumps her slimy fist once before extending her plasma rifle and using it to take out another alien, one who was extremely close to striking Unit 2. 

The fight is long and dogged, Sharak-The-Infinite can feel the drain on her batteries the longer it takes. In her ear Hassan is giving her updates about how much longer she can afford to stay in combat. Already her backup has had to return to base and it’s currently just her and the last remaining alien, a cagey creature who has proved to be very adept at going to ground where a fatal shot would result in civilian casualties.

When the right opportunities presents itself, Sharak-The-Infinite takes a chance. She has calculated that if she shoots the alien just right then it will fall along the length of the currently unoccupied freeway. There will be infrastructure damage but there should not be any fatalities. It’s a tricky shot, her heart is racing in the split seconds she has to set it up, her finger caresses the trigger and her gun fires. It works. The alien falls exactly as she predicted, not so much as clipping a building on its way down. 

** __ ** __ **

Hassan watches Sharak leap out of the cockpit of The Infinite and swagger across the hanger. Proud of herself and rightly so. The tight black jumpsuit emphasises her shape, accenting how her waist nips in and emphasizing her surprisingly ample bosom without disguising her incredible musculature. He has spent altogether too much time daydreaming about peeling her out of her suit, exposing her flawless skin to his eager eyes and impatient fingers. 

In his dreams she allows him to slowly pull the hidden zip fastener down, exposing the long length of her spine. He can imagine running his fingers up it and then over her shoulders to push the suit down to expose her breasts. She won’t be wearing a bra because the suit has inbuilt supports designed especially for her. He’d run his hands down over her collarbones to cup them gently, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples and moulding himself to her back. 

He knows she won’t be a passive lover, nothing about Sharak is passive, and it’s one of the things he loves most about her. He’d love to know what she’d do to him in such an intimate encounter; would she wriggle back against him and excite him that way, would she turn and drop to her knees to take him in her mouth, or would she take things more slowly by continuing to strip off her suit to stand naked before him? He can’t decide which fantasy he’d prefer, they all heat his blood and get his heart pounding.

His coveralls feel uncomfortably tight and he crouches down to hide his excited state. Sharak has finished congratulating her team on another successful fight and Hassan watches wistfully as she disappears into the corridor that will take her to the barracks. He knows a shower is in her immediate future, it’s what she always does after combat. It makes it hard to concentrate on his assigned tasks knowing that she’s naked as the day she was born and dripping wet. He hopes that she’ll think of him as she runs the soapy washcloth over herself. 

He excuses himself to go to the hanger bathroom. The Infinite needs to be cleaned, but he simply can’t concentrate on what he’s supposed to be doing with his erection throbbing so painfully in his pants. He locks the door behind himself to ensure that no one will walk in on him. He drops his pants and takes a seat on the toilet closest to the door, unable to wait any longer. His fingers clench spasmodically around his cock and he wishes dearly that they were Sharak’s much more delicate digits. 

He closes his eyes and imagines that it is her hand holding him so intimately. He tries to change his grip to one that’s less sure of itself, more like how he imagines a woman holding an erect cock for the first time would. His hips thrust upwards against the unsatisfying pressure. He tightens his grip, secure in the knowledge that Sharak is a quick learner, and he gasps quietly in pleasure.

Jerking his hand slowly, he imagines looking down into Sharak’s violet eyes, her lips would surely be parted with the tip of her tongue just peeking out, her breasts rising and falling quickly in her excitement. Her hand would look small against him, not delicate – never that, just smaller than his own and less able to wrap completely around his girth. It would be glorious to see. 

He groans and jerks his fist harder and faster, pushing his erection downwards so that his ejaculate lands in the toilet bowl and not all over his uniform. His heart is pounding in his chest, sweat is beading on his temples and his breath is rasping in his throat as he comes with a breathless shout. He milks himself through it, puffing for breath and enjoying the languor that seeps through him. He could really do with a nap right about now. 

** __ ** __ **

The explosion rips through Sharak-The-Infinite dragging agonised screams from her human throat as pieces of shrapnel slice her face open. Blood is streaming down her throat and dribbling into her eyes and the exposed wiring in her shoulder joint sends shockwaves of pain through the left side of her body. Her heart pounds as she gasps for breath and struggles to ground herself. She cannot give into the pain, there is still one alien left alive. 

Taking a painful step, she brings her remaining arm up and sights along the length of the gun still clasped in her metal fingers. Her targeting program has been destroyed but that is no hindrance, her biggest issue is the lack of balance. Her mind races as she tries to compensate for the damage and for the way that the alien is moving. 

“Take that you fucker.” She growls as she pulls the trigger. The recoil unbalances her as she predicted that it would. She crashes down, unable to save herself with her damaged arm. She hopes that she’s managed to fall in such a way that she hasn’t damaged any civilian property beyond repair. What’s the purpose in protecting the populace from the alien invaders if she kills them herself? 

She hears the thumping sound of the alien hitting the earth. She tries to force herself to her knees but her joints refuse to respond. Without her screens and without Hassan’s voice in her ears she can’t tell what the problem is. She keeps her eyes open and stares at the sky, trying to ignore the agony throbbing through her veins and electrical systems, just in case another alien appears. 

Their enemy is clearly learning, this particular attack was three-pronged so that she would split her forces. It worked like a charm and Sharak-The-Infinite takes the time to work through where she went wrong. She has finally worked out what her mistake was, a good thing too as she never wants to make such an error ever again, when Hassan arrives at long last with the ground support team. 

"Sharak!" He shouts as he scales her massive body with ease. 

“Took your time.” She grouses at him, relieved beyond belief to see his face again. He scrambles into the cockpit, hovering over her to carefully detach the neural monitors. She stares up at him as he runs a gentle hand over her forehead and down to cup her jaw. His thumb swipes across her bloody lips and Sharak shivers beneath his touch. 

"I thought you were dead." He says quietly in the last moments before the rest the support team pop up behind him laden down with medical supplies. She tilts her head into his touch and closes her eyes, secure in the knowledge that he will protect her.

 

** __ ** __ **

Hassan sits by the side of Sharak’s hospital cot. She is covered in bandages and has drips feeding her fluids, nutrients and pain killers. In spite of the doctors and nurses present he takes her hand and squeezes her fingers gently. Seeing that sticky bomb land on The Infinite’s head and then explode was the worst thing that Hassan has ever witnessed. He’d thought Sharak was dead until she’d raised her own weapon and returned fire, killing the alien with a single shot. The relief through his system had been short lived when she’d collapsed immediately afterwards and lain there without moving.

It had taken what felt like forever to reach the supine form of The Infinite and Hassan had leapt from the vehicle before it was completely stationary in his rush to reach Sharak. When he’d first seen her lying there, covered in blood and barely conscious his heart had nearly stopped. Then she’d roused herself enough to meet his eyes and the relief had almost overwhelmed him.

Extracting her from the partially destroyed cockpit had not been easy and they’d needed to give her a shot of morphine before they could accomplish it. The doctors had swarmed all over her and whisked her away with reassuring speed but Hassan had been forced to stay behind and coordinate the recovery of The Infinite. The only thing keeping his mind on what he was doing was the knowledge that the more swiftly he completed his tasks the more swiftly he could be by Sharak’s side. 

When he’d finally seen her, seen her chest rise and fall with every breath, he’d nearly cried with relief. He’d known that her injuries probably weren’t fatal, he’d also known that the doctors were extremely skilled in dealing with combat injuries, but it was another thing entirely to see her breathing calmly before him.

“Sharak?” He asks quietly as he takes a seat beside her bed. Her eyelids flutter and she turns her head towards him. The dilated appearance of her pupils tell him volumes about the level of painkillers flooding through her system and he smiles in response to her fondly dopey look.

“Hassan.” Her voice is husky; he suspects that her throat had sustained damaged from the burning fumes. “You came.” 

“I was just making sure your ride made it back to the garage.” He says with a wobbly smile, squeezing her fingers gently as her eyelids flutter against the bandages on her cheeks. 

“Thank you.” She mouths voicelessly. Hassan wonders what she’s thanking him for, visiting her or making sure that The Infinite made it home safely. He suspects it’s the latter even as he hopes it’s the former. 

** __ ** __ **

Sharak reclines back into the cockpit, it’s the first time she’s been back in The Infinite since the explosion. Hassan leans over her brushing his hands familiarly over her breasts as he fastens the harness securely. Her nipples harden beneath his touch and her breathing hitches before she can stifle it. He leers at her and repeats the motion, pretending to check that the harness isn’t pinching her anywhere. She wishes that it was, that would be easier to cope with.

“There you go Sweetie Pie.” He says with a cheesy grin and she grimaces at hearing her old nickname again. She doesn’t much resemble the model that she used to be. She’s no longer soft and shapely, her face and body are irreparably scarred, and she’s no longer meekly submissive. In spite of the old name he’s used, she knows that Hassan prefers her the way she is now. She has seen his adoration grow over the years; he’s not as good at hiding it as he thinks he is.

She can’t have been all that good at hiding her own appreciation over the years either. Hassan would surely have given in if he hadn’t been receiving a positive reaction. Since the explosion, she hasn’t bothered trying to hide so much, even though she still worries about the consequences. Hassan licks his lips and Sharak finds her eyes drawn to the motion. Hassan leans closer.

“Don’t.” She manages to breathe out, raising her hand to rest lightly on his chest. He stops moving but his eyes are still focused on hers. It’s hard to draw breath and her hand trembles against him. The atmosphere is tense and it takes an enormous amount of self-control to bring things back from the edge that she’s not yet ready to tumble over. 

“Don’t do this.” She whispers. “Not here, not today.” Hassan backs off slowly at her words. He’s breathing hard, the way she imagines that he would in bed, and his cheeks are flushed red. She doesn’t dare look lower down to see if anywhere else is experiencing a rush of blood, if he caught her at it she knows it would push him one step too far and she isn’t sure she’d have the willpower to stop him.

He brushes a hand over her head, almost like a benediction, and moves back. The air around her feels cold and empty in a way it hadn’t moments ago. She tries to catch her breath as Hassan pretends to run a series of final checks. Her heart is still thundering and she has a heavy feeling in her abdomen that she associates with thwarted lust, it’s a sensation she is very familiar with. 

Usually she would take herself off for a hot shower and an early night and try to deal with it discreetly, but it’s only mid-morning and she’s heading out on a training mission to ensure that The Infinite is back in perfect operational form. She rubs her thighs together to try and relieve the pressure but all that does is draw Hassan’s attention back to her. 

“Just go.” She rasps at him, resolutely ignoring his hangdog expression. 

 

** __ ** __ **

They’ve been dancing around this for almost ten years now, but finally Sharak has indicated that she’s ready to take the next step. Hassan’s body thrills at the mere thought of it. 

“Really?” He says, quietly. She nods at him, her face wearing a ‘get on with it’ expression. He laughs and waves her into the munitions closet he’s currently inventorying. He shoves a barrel of grenades across to block the door and turns to see Sharak simply standing there staring at him. He’s hot, sweaty, and covered in smears of gun oil, not exactly the way he expected to be dressed when the love of his life finally expressed an interest in getting intimate with him.

He drags his shirt up and over his head and drops it to the floor. Sharak quirks an eyebrow at his actions and takes a small step closer. “Like what you see?” He asks. He watches interestedly as she raises her hand to trail her fingers across his bare chest, her light touch tickles and he huffs out a laugh. “Too gentle.” He explains when she queries his response. He raises his own hand and uses it to press hers against him much more firmly. She licks her lips and he can feel his heart rate speed up noticeably. He holds her hand over his heart and leans forwards to gently touch his lips to hers. 

Her lips are soft against his, softer than he ever imagined, and her breath is warm and fast. He kisses her gently again, and again. Then, with a growl, he raises his other hand to tangle in her hair and really kisses her, just like he’s always wanted to. She melts against him with a moan of pleasure. She tastes just as sweet as he’d always imagined she would. Their tongues battle it out for supremacy and he lets go of her hand that he’s still holding over his racing heart and uses it to caress her breasts. 

“Harder.” She breathes against his lips and he happily obliges. She groans and arches against him, tipping her head back and breaking their kiss. He’s half hard in his pants and she deliberately wriggles against him, hardening him fully. He wonders where she learned that move, or if it’s instinctive. He walks her backwards until her she hits a closed weapons locker and he uses his larger frame to pin her firmly in place. She spreads her legs to allow him to press even closer and he rumbles his pleasure as he claims her lips again. 

When he’s lightheaded from lack of air, he steps back slightly. Sharak stays where he left her, wide legged stance, tangled hair, swollen lips and all. He stares at her, drinking in her dishevelled state in admiration, then he bends over to unlace his boots and tug them off. 

She’s still standing there as he shimmies out of his pants, leaving him naked before her gaze. She worries at her swollen lower lip, clearly considering something, then she shifts so that she can place one booted foot before him.

“Now me.” She uses her commanders’ voice, the one she uses when she pilots The Infinite. His spine turns to jelly and he falls to his knees. He unlaces her combat boot and pulls it off. Then he unrolls her sock to expose her surprisingly dainty foot. He is surprised to see that she’s painted her toenails a deep and glossy shade of purple. He presses a kiss to the top of her foot, uncaring of its generally sweaty state. 

“Next.” He says cheekily, staring up her. Wordlessly she puts her bare foot on the floor and shifts the booted one into his lap. He gives it the same treatment, then slowly slides his hands up her legs to reach her belt. 

“Use your teeth.” She orders. He wonders how she knows being ordered around seriously turns him on. Then it occurs to him that maybe she’s turned on by ordering _him_ around. It blows his mind even as he kneels up to obey her. He nuzzles his chin into her crotch deliberately as he fumbles with the belt clasp and Sharak runs her fingers through his cropped hair. “Naughty boy.” She scolds breathlessly. 

** __ ** __ **

When her pants are puddled around her ankles, he uses his hands to push her shirt up and over her head. She unclasps her bra and is finally naked before him. He draws her down onto the floor and lays her out so that he can run his hands all over her body. The cold floor is a nice contrast to the heat of his hands. He doesn’t avoid her scars, nor does he pay too much attention to them, he treats them like they’re just another patch of skin and it reassures the part of her mind that she doesn’t like to admit to having, the vain part.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells her as he sucks one of her nipples into his mouth. She arches up into it, enjoying the harsh suction more than she ever believed she would. His teeth scratch at her skin lightly and she gasps in pleasure. Just when she thinks she can’t stand it anymore, his lips slip off and then dive down to latch onto her other breast. She raises her hand to press his head closer to her chest and he leans more fully against her, pressing his erection firmly against her hip. 

“Fuck!” She exclaims as he nips her hard and he looks up to grin at her. Then he’s slowly sliding down her body, littering her with tiny kisses until he reaches his destination. He nuzzles at her first, breathing out hot air and stirring the curly hairs at her apex. She holds her breath as he noses in, his tongue darting out to taste her and she shivers as pleasure washes through her. She crooks her knees to open up her pelvis and Hassan shuffles impossibly closer. 

She puffs and pants as he works her over, dropping breathless expletives whenever the pleasure becomes too much. His tongue darts between her folds and dances around her clit in a maddening pattern and one of his fingers slowly makes its way up the inside of her thigh and then delves between them, pushing up and into her as his tongue distracts her. She is in heaven. It’s a damn good thing she didn’t give into this as a young woman, she would never have had the time to put towards her studies.

“Come here.” She orders, tugging on his ears to get his attention. He looks up at her, his chin slick with her juices and his finger still inside of her. He grins at her, his excitement palpable, before he scrambles up her body to claim her lips again. She can taste herself in his mouth. He grinds down against her, his erection putting delicious pressure on her clit. “Do it.” She says, unable to wait any longer.

He pushes into her and it takes her breath away. He feels enormous, yet he slides in with surprising ease. They fit together beautifully. She stares up into his eyes as he rocks slowly against her. His mouth is open as he stares back down at her and he’s gasping for breath, clearly struggling for self-control. She tries to stay still whilst he grapples with himself, it feels amazing and she doesn’t want it to end too soon.

“You feel incredible.” Hassan pants as he starts to thrust in earnest. Sharak cannot think of a single thing to say as the pleasure ratchets up. She reaches up and digs her fingernails into Hassan’s back, desperate for something to grasp onto, and tilts her hips so that his pelvic bone puts pressure on her clit with every thrust. He gasps as her nails break the skin and his hips start to stutter against her. This clearly isn’t going to be a long encounter and she can’t blame him, her own peak is not that far off. 

She moves one hand from his back and pushes it between them to concentrate the friction where she needs it most. Hassan leans down and kisses her fiercely before rearing back and pulling out of her to shoot his essence across her stomach and breasts. She follows him into orgasm as the first hot spurts stripe her skin, shaking and shuddering with ecstasy. Hassan slumps down beside her and kisses her jaw tenderly.

“I love you.” He whispers in her ear. She turns to face him and kisses him softly before returning the sentiment.

** __ ** __ **

Hassan finds it hard to adjust back into his normal life now that Sharak has consented to be his lover. They still live in the communal barracks and utilise the communal bathrooms and mess hall. Privacy is hard to come by and they tend to use it to satisfy their physical desires instead of talking about what they want from their relationship. He feels terribly sappy for wanting to just talk sometimes.

Today is not going to be that day though.

“In here!” He hisses at Sharak as she marches down the hall. It’s been a long hard day of training new recruits and he can tell simply from her posture that Sharak needs something to take the edge off. He’s closed all the curtains in this training room, he knows it’s not booked to be used again today, and it has the added bonus of having handles that can be used creatively to keep the doors wedged shut.

She slips inside and grins lasciviously at him before stalking him across the room. He flees before her, mock-cowering against a handy desk and struggling not to laugh. She loves scaring the new kids and he’s not above play acting to bring out her frisky side. She crowds against him and steals a welcome kiss, tangling their tongues together wickedly. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes tightly, loving the feeling of her in his arms.

“I want to taste you.” She tells him candidly before slowly slithering down his body to kneel at his feet. He stares down at her, his heart pounding and his mouth dry. She opens his trousers quickly and somewhat perfunctorily. A little bit more foreplay would have been nice, but they’ve only got a few minutes before they’ll be missed and he can tell that she needs this. 

She nuzzles against him and then takes his barely half-hard cock into her mouth. The suction is incredible and he hardens quickly thanks to her ministrations. Her tongue is unbelievably agile, twirling around his length as Sharak bobs her head. He reaches down and tangles his fingers in her hair, he’s not guiding her movements, he’s holding on for dear life as she attempts, quite successfully, to suck his brains out. 

The scent of chalk is strong is nose, tempting him to sneeze, but he supresses the urge knowing it would kill the intimate atmosphere. The sight of his cock appearing and disappearing between Sharak’s lips is hypnotising; it creates a small feedback loop in his brain, the sight is incredibly exciting and at the same time the sensations are incredible. He moans her name in appreciation and her lips spread in a smile despite her mouthful. 

A few more bobs of her head and he reaches the point of no return. He tugs on her hair to let her know and he groans wordlessly when she doesn’t pull away. Sweat drips from his chin as he curls over her and shoots down her throat.

Sharak swallows.

Hassan nearly dies when she pulls back and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand looking exceptionally pleased with herself. She’s never done that before and he can barely believe that she’s done it now, he certainly never expected her to. He’s still too breathless to say anything as she tucks him neatly back into his trousers and stands up to zip both of their flies up. He can’t believe she got herself off whilst giving him such unbelievable head, he always knew she could multi-task, but that really takes the cake. 

** __ ** __ **

Sharak leans against Hassan and trades sweet kisses with him. His arms are loosely wrapped her, making her feel secure but not smothered. She can’t believe it took her so long to understand that sometimes simple intimacy is far more satisfying than the most energetic lovemaking. 

"I've missed you.” She says softly. He has been away for almost six months overseeing the production and delivery of some new and improved weaponry for The Infinite. A vital task that she wouldn’t entrust to anyone else, but his absence created a hole in her heart.

Their public reunion had involved a brief one-armed hug and a lot of technical discussion. She’d stood as closely to him as she’d dared, her body singing whenever they’d brushed against each other. She’d wanted nothing more than to fall into a soft bed with him, but that has never been their lot in life, she’ll have that particular treat when they finally retire, presuming that she doesn’t die first of course. 

 

** __ ** __ **

Hassan smiles sappily at Sharak as they await their turn on the stage. Today is a big day, the day that they formally retire from the military. It’s been twenty years, twenty hard years filled with hundreds of alien incursions. Their robot technology has improved in leaps and bounds, as has pilot safety. Sharak has not been hospitalised in years. There’s a new crop of pilots, incredible men and women who are competing fiercely to show that they’re as good as his Sharak. Hassan doesn’t think any of them come close, but it’s possible that he’s a just bit biased. 

After the awards ceremony, they head to the small town that they’ve picked to retire in. They have a comfortable house waiting for them, fully furnished and ready for the rest of their lives. Hassan can’t wait to have Sharak all to himself.


End file.
